#i love punk Ghost so much let me rationalize it PLEASE

[meowmeowriley]

Unhinged and unnecessary HC to rationalize the punk Ghost skin incoming!

It's not Ghost. Ta da! Listen. Listen. I understand. Ghost, being someone devoted to the crown, wouldn't wear the anarchy symbol. And if given the comic backstory (as I always will) Ghost most likely would hate punk music because of his father.

So why punk Ghost? It's not Ghost. It's his son. His and Johnny's. Maybe he's blood, maybe not. Doesn't really matter. They raised the boy. He's theirs. And he resents the crown and the military for how it broke his fathers. Maybe he lost them both, either together or at different times. Maybe they died in the field, or in the hospital due to complications from an injury they got on the job. Maybe they didn't even die, they were injured and dismissed and tossed aside like trash. Whatever the reason, he's angry.

So he joins up with some men who stand for everything his fathers didn't. Fuck their militaristic peace bullshit. It starts small, protests and parties mostly. But then as he finds himself getting closer with the others, he's asked to take part in some extracurriculars. Raids on police and military caravans. Harmless, he tells himself. Good even, they're preventing those in power from enforcing their tyranny, he rationalizes. Things get more radical the longer he's in. Things escalate. He's in too deep. They're a resistance group. They fight back. He looks back on the combat training his fathers pushed on him at a young age more fondly now, as it served him and his purposes well.

He doesn't see how he's exactly like his fathers, won't let himself. But he is. Just a man who follows orders and fights tooth and nail. But he does love his fathers. He misses them. He takes up Simon's mask and Johnny's hairstyle, incorporates them into his look. Makes them his own. An attempt to honor them, despite their different stances on how to do good.

A mission, he's stopped hating when they're referred to as missions a while ago, has himself and his team breaking into a military research facility to investigate and destroy what they found. A new weapon to hurt innocent people, he was sure. Except it wasn't, exactly.

Teleportation? Couldn't be real. He read the files with an air of disbelief. He was distracted, rookie mistake, a scientist gave him a shove, he fell into the teleporter. The man shouted something about finally having a human test subject and slapped his hand down on a button. A flash of blinding light enveloped him, and suddenly he found himself in a hallway. Disoriented, he walked about, trying to figure out where he was.

A man in a bucket hat rounded the corner ahead of him and stopped, looking him up and down with an exasperated sigh. "Ghost what the fuck are you wearing this time?" Ghost. His dad's callsign. This man thought he was his dad. What would his dad do in this situation.

He narrowed his eyes and crossed his arms. That should do it. Thankfully his sleeves were down covering his tattoos. They were different from Simon's and could've given him away.

"Whatever. Come on then." The man kept walking and he did his best to imitate Simon's walk. His mind raced, an obvious military man thought he was his own dad was worrisome, as the old man was gone, and he needed to get away without arousing suspicion. He'd have to play along then.

That plan went tits up the second he followed the bucket hat man into a room and found himself face to face with his fathers. His fathers who were able bodied and young, same age as himself.

The teleporter hadn't just sent him somewhere else, but had sent him back in time as well.

Johnny roughly ripped off his mask and slammed him against the wall. "Who the FUCK are you?!" Simon menacingly slid a knife out of his sleeve and deftly twirled it around his fingers. Right. They weren't his dads yet, just the crowns attack dogs.

[musicallisto]

Hello love,

Congratulations for the 800 followers! You absolutely deserve this and so much more! I'm happy to see how your blog grows and that you're still providing all of us with wonderful content. You're one of the first blogs that I've started to follow here on Tumblr and I'm so lucky to have found your blog ♡

As for your celebration event, could I please request a 🍨 vanilla milkshake with a male Peaky Blinders Character?

I'm more on the curvy side (and insecure about it) and I'm ALWAYS wearing black (which I love, no matter what others say or even more if they object). As for my personality, I'm a highly complex, paradox and complicated individium. I'm unbelievable patient, timid, awkward, kind, forgiving, open-minded, compassionate, thruthful, gentle and calm and I've been told that I have a calming effect on others, that I can easily ground anyone and anything, no matter how troubled their mind is. I prefer vintage over modern things. I think rather deep which often leads me to overthinking everything, which in turn leads me to doubting (very much) myself. You would be surprised how timid and reserved I am, I'm sure you wouln't notice me in a room full of people if it wouldn't be for my different appearance (but I like it this way). I'm always well-meaning, yet often misunderstood (maybe because it's hard for me to articulate myself). I can be incredible lazy, clumsy and forgetful. I've always felt like I don't really belong anywhere, so I've started to distance myself from others a while ago. I'm a outsider, weird, a dork, not normal, a loner and I fucking love it, because I like to be different, I would hate to fit into just one box and to be like everyone else. And I like people who are not ashamed to be their 100% true self, no matter how different that is from the mainstream. I'm the most loyal person you'll ever find, once you earn my trust, I'll always be on/by your side, no matter what. That says a lot, because I'm hard to scare away. Sometimes I feel alienated from the people and things surrounding me and I'm sure that I annoy and bore them. I'm very nervous and insecure around others, which is why I try to avoid people and why I'm not talking all that much around them (though, I'm a really good listener). I'm easily overwhelmed by large crowds and much light/noise, that's why I don't like to go outside, I prefer to cozy up at home. I would never intentionally hurt a animal and I'm not eating any meat, which is very important to me. I believe that there isn't a ounce of cruelty inside me. I'm unassuming and understanding, I only believe what I've witnessed on my own and I have endless acceptance for almost everything. Due to my Insomnia, I'm a night owl. I have strong personal values, am very opinionated and I'm really in-touch with myself and even though I'm extremly insecure, I would never reduce or change myself and views/opinions for someone and I neither have a problem to challenge authority and advocating for my beliefs. I'm a perfectionist and sometimes I really hate it. And, as you can see, I'm unable to be brief. My favourite colours are dark green, black, gold and dark purple. My greatest passion is music, even if I can't sing or play an instrument.(I prefer rock/punk/pop/80s/90s) It's the most calming and therapeutic thing when it comes to my anxiety and depression and I could never live a day without it. You will never see me in the street without headphones in my ears and even when I'm at home there's music playing almost all the time. I could talk for hours about music and what it means to me. And otherwise I love to watch films and series (I like fantasy, horror, psychological thriller, science fiction and psychological drama and almost anything from the 70s, 80s and 90s). I love rainy days and to go outside while it's pouring big, fat drops. What I love the most is to drive around without a destination, while talking and listening to music. And I love to spend time with my cat, if I could, I would have endless animals who live peacefully and loved with me. I enjoy to have deep talks and to be challenged to think. I love to take late-night-strolls, while gazing into the sky and watching the stars/moon. I have a fascination for dark and macabre things.

I really hope that's not too much? But thank you anyway ♡

Have a good day!

thank you so much for your kind words, you have no idea how much it means to me to know that I was one of the first blogs you followed ;; here’s your vanilla milkshake - and it’s also my first time writing for peaky blinders, but I hope it’s alright; and I hope finn shelby will find the portrait I paint of him accurate enough...

Birmingham was a drab and disheartening place enough without the war adding to its joylessness; but somehow the streets are even worse to bear deserted than when they’re bustling and fetid. Especially for a ten year old boy who wants nothing but to play with someone, to talk to someone, to see someone.

With his brothers off fighting somewhere in France and his aunt too busy with her businesses (adult stuff that Finn has absolutey no interest in attempting to understand), the youngest Shelby has been fighting off an affliction worse than consumption and measles, because much more insidious for a boy his age; boredom

and he’s so sad, so irrevocably sad, with no one to bruise his knees with and throw mud at, that he just aimlessly wanders the empty streets whenever aunt Polly isn’t looking, to find a semblance of stimulation

(he used to enjoy the solitude, it gave him time to imagine delirious stories in fantastical worlds and read the most enthralling of novels, but not anymore. four years of reclusion is an awfully long time for a little boy.)

and it’s during one of his escapades that he first meets you

you’re a little girl his age, dressed in a pretty dress, wearing pretty booties and holding a pretty little woven basket, but your face is stuck on the most grouchy frown he’s ever seen on a little girl, and you don’t walk, you stomp down the wet pavement like a wrathful titan

And it’s probably the first time in four years that he’s been this close to making a new friend, so he walks up to you, despite how rusty his communication skills have become

“Girls don’t frown. It’s unbecoming.”

(Yes, pretty rusty indeed; but in his defense, he’s ten, he’s bored, he’s lonely, and he’s only ever heard Ada say it, and Ada is the most level-headed of his siblings, so anything she says must be true, right?)

“Shut up.”

(Well, if it was unbecoming of you to frown, it’s even more to rebuff someone so rudely. You don’t even spare a glance and continue walking; he has to hurry to catch up to you.)

“You can’t say that. It’s a bad word.”

“How do you know that?”

“My family says it all the time, but they told me I can’t say it.”

“Well, my family is not your family. And I hate my family!”

You’ve yelled the last words at the sky, so loud that the crows on the neighboring roofs have taken off in a startled flight.

“They want to wear this stupid dress to go to the stupid market to buy stupid meat. I don’t even want to eat meat, that’s cruel! And I don’t even want to wear a frilly dress! I want to wear black!”

And in saying so you tugged at the pink and white ribbons that encircled your waist.

And Finn couldn’t help being extremely intrigued at this little girl who said bad words and refused to eat meet and wanted to wear black. It was the most exciting thing to ever happen in all the duration of the war.

“You want to wear a black dress?”

“Yes, but my mama won’t let me. She says it’s too sad because of the war. But black isn’t sad! Black is beautiful!”

“Maybe I could find you a black dress. I’m sure my sister must have one. Where do you live?”

And, loyal to his promise, the following morning he had run to your doorstep and snuck into your house - a proper Shelby talent, to be able to go unnoticed or make a ruckus depending on the occasion - with an old, crinkled mourning dress of Ada’s, that had probably belonged to his mother and had been mended several times

And it was obviously five sizes too big for you and you looked more like a ghost from one of Finn’s horror novels, your arms floating in the sleeves and the hem of the skirt pooling at your feet, but your smile was the brightest light he’d ever seen in this whole damn town.

“Do you like it?”

(He didn’t really know why he sounds so nervous. Maybe it was having a friend, a real friend, and doing something personal for them... or maybe it had to do with how fast his heart beat, watching you in that gigantic, shapeless dress)

“I love it! Thank you so much, Finn!”

From then on started one of the most wonderful friendships Finn would ever have, and what would bring a ray of light to the grim existence of a little boy in the midst of a global war

Despite the ration cards, despite the loneliness, despite the worry that tugged at his stoic aunt’s eyes for her son and nephews across the Channel... he found an unspeakable solace in your friendship

And one day, without a trace, you were gone

He knocked on your door; gone. He asked all the neighbors what had happened to the family that lived there; gone. He wrote you letters and sent them to the confines of England; gone. He got scolded by Polly for marking numbers at random on Tommy’s state-of-the-art telephone; gone.

Suddenly he was back to the bleak existence he had battled with before meeting you, and the hollow inside his chest only grew wider as the days went on, because he had no explanation as to what had happened to you, and worried every single day

Thankfully, the war ended not long after, and his brothers came back home, all alive and unscathed - well, for the most part

Fast forward more or less ten years, and much has changed in Finn Shelby’s life and in old Birmingham, but the memory of you still stugs at his heartstrings

One evening, he’s tasked by Arthur to run some errands, send a few messages, scout a few places; the most dangerous thing his older brothers will ever let him do

His task leads him to a bar in the center of town, one that pours its joyous light and music into the street outside; he’s there to meet with a client, arrange a meeting; nothing he’s hasn’t done already

But the evening takes a turn for the unexpected when he recognizes the girl sat alone at a table, enjoying the musicians’ jazz with an air of pure bliss on her face

It’s been ten years, of course, but... it’s unmistakable. That face, that silhouette, and the black ensemble from head to toe... and he’s always had a knack for remembering faces, especially those that mark him deeply

Suddenly he’s frozen on the spot, and he has forgotten why he came to the bar in the first place, what his target looks like - all he knows is you, and how beautiful you look in the dim light of the bar, and the undisclosed and unknown feelings he had for you at the time come flooding back.

Except this time, he understands, and he fears them, because he doesn’t have time for any of this, and it’s way too dangerous for you and him

But he can’t just pass you by and not say a word?

He swallows, hard.

And walks up to you.

“Y/N?”

You open your eyes, and your face flashes with recognition, and a little bit of pain as well. Even if you fled without a word, and left him hanging all these years, he’s incapable of rancor

“Finn... wow, you’ve changed so much.”

“You haven’t.”

He gestures at your face, your clothes, how you savor the music like the finest drink in the world, and you laugh and blush, sending his heart into overdrive

“Where were you all this time?”

“I’m so sorry, Finn... my brother died in the war, and... my mom sent me to live with my grandparents in Scotland. We were all destroyed by grief... I needed to get away.”

“Without explanation? Not even a word?”

“I wanted to write to you, so bad, but... I couldn’t remember your address. I couldn’t remember anything about Birmingham at all...”

He nods, slowly, in understanding.

The war opens wounds that never heal, even after all the most beautiful friendships and love stories in the world.

“But I’m really glad I found you.”

His heart is pounding in his throat. Maybe it’s a sign of destiny that he found you here, tonight, alone, and ready to welcome him back. Maybe it’s a word from fate, that you can never truly be apart.

So he takes the seat in front of you, and you smile, that shy but bright smile of yours, and he forgets all about his mission, his client, and his brothers.

They’ll have to understand.

800 follower sleepover

[rodentchild]

Things Family/Friends Say as Prompts Part 10!!

In honor of part 10 being out, here's 100 prompts!!

"I made a pie because I was procrastinating."

"These pants make my ass look great, thank you very much!"

"Well, shit. It seems I've forgotten my pants."

"I find your pettiness to be funny as hell."

*tall person interrupting short person* "That's enough from the peanut gallery."

"He probably thought there was real crack in it."

"I'm getting caffeine so I don't kill people."

"Don't ask a personal question unless you are 100% ready for the answer."

"Look at me. Just because you can fight this alone, it doesn't mean you have to."

"It's not my fault you seem to have lost all rational sense!"

"We're a violent generation, mother!"

"You're a monstrosity." "Yeah, but a sexy monstrosity."

"Why are you covered in glitter?"

"I'm not sure if I'm feeling pride well up inside me, or if it's vomit."

*carries a plush yoda in their backpack* "The force says fuck you."

"I found out that 90% of my coworkers don't know how a fucking clock works."

"Don't ask me if I'm okay, I'm in a constant state of panic."

"Where's my fucking watch!" *flips desk*

"It was 4 bucks at Goodwill, let me live my life!"

"Out of all the people in this room with nerves to push, you choose to tap dance on mine."

"If you're not careful, I will shove a lit firecracker down your pants."

"Wow you are such a gay disaster."

*watches someone do parkour* "What a Chad!"

"I don't know what it is but it smells bad and tastes worse."

"Stop being so hot!"

*singing in Not English* "Wow that song is beautiful." *pterydactyl screech*

"It gave it's body up for science!" "THAT DOESN'T MEAN YOU CAN EAT IT!"

*multiple warning alarms going off* "Hell yeah, party time!"

"I wear anything I want! Regardless of weather!"

"My student's opinions don't matter!"

"I'm not doing that, I'd look like one of those thumb people in Spy Kids."

"You're just a problem in general."

"Now hOW IN THE GODDAMN FUCK..."

*talking about coffee* "Get that bitter bean-water out of my face!"

"That man is a national treasure."

"This is about my job, not my looks!"

"You're vibes are rancid."

"Can you come drop me off a new pair of pants, please? I spilt acid on my old ones."

"Let me listen to my punk music, you binary bitch!"

"Let me aggresively love you!!"

"I'm too sick for your bullshit today, so can you just get me some soup and fuck off?"

"It was weird then and it's weird now, so shut up."

"Nothing is binary and everything is gay, you ignorant bitch!"

"I would challenge you to a battle of wits since you think you're so smart, but it's unfair to go against an unarmed opponent."

"Just... Promise me you won't get into any more fights this year?"

"I'm running on 4 hours of sleep and chronic anxiety, so sass me again and see what happens."

*screaming* "What are you doing?" "Self care! It's either this or I go set someone on fire!"

"If you wanted a nice guy, you shouldn't have treated me like a villain."

"Why are you drinking cereal and milk out of a mug?"

"I'm sorry you have a tattoo where?"

"I'm always a slut for mashed potatoes."

"You look terrible. I mean that in the nicest way possible."

"You look real fancy, dare I say 'hobo chic'."

"That is both romantic and disgusting."

"Damn you are the hottest boy in a skirt I've ever seen." "I'm the only boy in a skirt you've ever seen..."

"Life is a rollercoaster and it has no seatbelts, let's fucking go!"

*repeatedly smacking them with a book* "Stop. Being. Such. A. Himbo."

"I probably just saved your life, but there's no need to thank me. You should just start listening to me."

*dramatically throws themself on the couch* "I can and I will be as dramatic as I fucking want, ok?"

"You need to stop! You could die!" "That's the fucking point!" "...Wait what?"

"Get out of my way before I pick you up and throw you across the damn room."

"I feel like a sad sack of shit."

"Let me eat my depression cookies in peace!"

"It's not my fault you're a feral beast."

"Just because I'm dead, it doesn't mean I don't have feelings." (ghost au???)

"Point to a place on the globe and I promise we'll go there after graduation."

"How dare you. You don't have the right to even say his name after the shit you've put him through."

*hiss* “Okay, you are not a cat, now calm down.”

"No more yeeting dirt from the neighbors for your garden."

"I mostly live off coffee and despair."

"I told my students that if they all passed their final, I'd ask you out. I don't think I've ever seen everyone study so hard in my life."

*after getting in a fight at school* "It's not that bad, I'll be fine. You can kill them later."

"It is my God-given right to be a bitch am I'm going to use it."

"Just because God gave you a mouth, doesn't mean you should use it."

"You're just a walking meme, aren't you?"

"Can I get a Hell Yeah?" *southern accent* "HeLl YeAh!"

"Pfft! In what dimension is that true?!"

"Just. Get. Out. Please..."

"Sometimes I wonder if those soulmate tropes in fanfics are real." "... Is this why I caught you writing down full conversations on your arm?"

"This is your plan?" "Yep." "It's incredibly dangerous." "Sounds right." "It could kill you." "Let's hope it doesn't."

"Wanna go play hide-and-seek at IKEA?"

"I'm gonna get drunk and binge watch Scooby Doo. You in?"

"You finally managed to surprise me, you crafty little shit."

"Can you walk?" "No, I think my leg's broken. Can you carry me?"

"I will never be anything but mediocre in this universe."

"You should replace the batteries in those things, they're not working right." "Oh no, my hearing aids work fine. Ignoring you was a conscious decision."

"What are you doing?" "Waiting. I do that."

*said to two men* "Alright girls, calm down. You're both pretty!" "I am so much prettier than him!"

"If you'll excuse me, I drank a 5-hour Energy and now I'm going to chew caffeine gum and explode."

"I'd sacrifice myself for you in a heartbeat."

"Fuck Claire's! We're getting you pierced at a real shop!"

"You're such an ass." "Thank you, it's a natural talent."

"It's only a matter of time before I injure myself on accident."

"Don't say you're sorry, you've done nothing wrong."

*context: age regression as a coping mechanism* "You can be as little as you want, baby. I'll be right here."

"I can tell your anxiety's acting up. Want to squeeze my hand?"

"I'm constantly afraid that my parents will find out I'm lgbtq+, and one day I'll come home from school and my house keys won't work anymore..."

"You're injured way too much, the hospital staff know you by name."

"Yes hi I love you, now give me attention."

"Can you draw on my arm? I like the feeling, and it kinda helps with anxiety..."

[scntinos]

as promised, it is i, NAT, coming at you with my second muse and i’m actually in love with him. get ready to meet sunny, my tiny demiboy with dreams of being the pop punk rock revival™. honestly he’ll use any pronouns to describe himself (his faceclaim also uses she/him pronouns interchangeably for himself so that’s being kept canon) but i’ll use he/him here just know you can do whatever you feel comfortable doing tbh but yes this is shorter than pip’s because focusing is hard rn but i’m ready to love you!

- basically a lil, queer, punk tinkerbell who will die if you don’t love him - santino is his real name but he goes by sunny p much exclusively. only call him santino if you’re mad @ him ? he will get really pouty and it’s kind of cute but don’t call him that either. - he’s a tiny italian but he grew up in france so he speaks both italian and french fluently w/ a heavy french accent. like he’s gonna have a french accent to his english too but i will likely not be writing it so you’ll please have to use your imaginations ~ - his family moved to brighton when sunny was 18. his wanderlust bitten parents wanted a change of scenery to inspire them (they’re both very artsy in their own ways) and they ended up in cute lil brighton england with all its pastel houses and pretty beach sunsises - which is lowkey the opposite of sunny? he’s dark clothing and the nightlife scene - despite his resident edgelord status, he works @ blue moon diner and basically covers diva jams through the eras bc he can kill those high notes. honestly, if you’ve ever heard mitch’s voice, i couldn’t take that away from dear sunny but imagine a french tint to him vocally - his true inspiration, though, is the pop punk rock scene. he wants to be the frontman of a pop punk band and his entire style aesthetic matches that desire: dyed hair, piercings, ink, etc - watch THIS VIDEO for pure sunny aesthetic - sunny is passionate, loud, crass, and coy. his interests include music, sarcasm, pretending he’s taller than he really is and flirting. he’ll flirt with everyone but he’s only romantically / sexually interested in men / nb folk. casual sex is a gift in his book though he has dated before. - back in paris, he had a best friend turned boyfriend named bowie (all the b’s apparently). bowie was special because bowie gave sunny every last drop of his affection which is really sunny’s turn on. as someone confident in his self expression and out here to turn heads, he captured bowie’s eye and hasn’t ever shaken it, honestly. he felt worshiped and it made for a decent romantic relationship. - however, sunny’s REALLY not the kind to commit. it’s a grass is greener on the other side kind of curse and once he found himself in deep, he got spookened. logically he PROBABLY should have ended things with bowie and let the poor sap have some closure but no. flighty impulsive sunny had to ghost and leave things up in the air. really he was asking for bowie to follow him smh. - with friendships as well as relationships he’s kind of… demanding. like he CRAVES all attention on him and wants to be the object of everyone’s desire. it’s different from pip in that he’s more whiny and stroppy about it. probably to the point of annoyance but that’s his problem. he’ll basically just do whatever to make sure people like him. - sunny is a perfectionist and actually suffers from mild ocd personality disorder. his symptoms primarily manifest in detail / list preoccupation, an inability to find satisfaction with certain things, a stubbornness in his opinion that goes beyond rational, and an inability to ask others for help since he refuses to allow anything to be done less than perfectly. it impacts his relationship as well and is cause for him to occasionally act out against authority. but if he trusts you, that trust is all encompassing. - he’s gluten intolerant! he occasionally does graffiti around brighton! he’s only 5′5! idk there are lots of tiny details about him you can go read HERE if you’re interested

if you would like to PLOT with my 2nd baby, feel free to IM me or message me or like this? now i’m finally gonna respond to MY IMs so we can get this show on the road!

[funeral-clown]

Kylo Ren Needs to Chill Chapter 24

u already know who it’s for

Rey looked down at the missive in her hands and blinked. She read it again. She held it upside down and read it one more time. She flipped it over and held it up to the sun.

“Rey,” Luke sighed, “Not that I don’t admire the thoroughness of your perusal, but I very much doubt the message is going to change.”

“I can hope,” she grumbled, crumpling the paper in her hands.

“What has you so frustrated, student.”

Rey looked up at her mentor, sitting on the step of the temple, looking calm and composed. She didn’t want to tell him, not when everything was so peaceful.

“Rey. I can sense your hesitation. Just tell me.”

“It’s Hux,” she relented. “He needs our help.”

“Which one is Hux again?”

“The ginger guy who built the Death Star on steroids and blew up all those planets. My pen pal.”

“Ah, yes, that guy!” Luke said brightly, “Fuck that guy!”

“Master-”

“Harmless pranking is one thing, Rey, and sure I follow the guy on social media, but Spacebook and Blastchat are one thing, getting assisting the man who blew up the entire Republic is another.”

“To be fair, he had to deal with Crylo 24 7. I would blow shit up too.”

“Don’t make excuses, Rey. What does he want.”

“It’s not really hat he wants. Supreme Leader Snoke is visiting him for an inspection. He needs Kylo back or there’s gonna be retaliation.”

“No.”

“Master Luke, please. Just read the message.”

Luke took the crumpled paper from her hands and scanned it. The penmanship, he noted, was exquisite. Clearly this man was an excellent calligrapher. He was tempted to help him on the fanciness of his handwriting alone. His eyes narrowed. The fancy allure of evil.

Still. There was an opening here, for possibility. 

He needed to speak to Leia.

“Rey, I’m taking my vacation days.”

“WHAT!”

“You’re going to need to watch over the island for the next few days. Make sure my incense is growing properly.”

“Luke, you can’t just ditch me on an island whenever you have a crisis!”

“Can and am. Make sure you eat or whatever it is you kids need to do. I’ll be back in a little while.”

He waked into the temple and started Force throwing things into a bag. A spare arm, a toothbrush, some rations, 30 spare cloaks. Everything a Jedi needed. Rey trailed after him, squawking protests that Luke mostly ignored.

If he could get to Leia, plan this out right...

Rey stood glaring as the Falcon faded from view, sun burning her eyes and rage burning her heart. Huffing, she stalked back to her room and grabbed her comm.

Poe was online. She opened Spacetime.

“Hey, Rey! Finn’s a little busy right now, but if you want we can wait for him.”

“Hey, Poe. No, I kinda just wanted to talk to you right now. Everything’s upside down and I need your help.”

“Sure kid, anything.”

“I need you to not tell Finn about it.”

Poe frowned. His face became drawn up in confusion.

“What’s wrong, why can’t I tell our guy?”

“It’s about the emo bitchbaby fuckstick.”

“What about him.”

“We might need to let him go.”

Poe sucked in a breath, eyes slamming shut. A million micro-expressions flitted across his face, giving flickering glances into his thoughts. Pain, fear, frustration. 

“Oooookay. Why the fuck would we ever do that.”

“Because if we do, then we can kill Snoke the Joke.”

There was silence on the line.

“Snoke the Joke?”

“That’s what I’ve been calling him.”

“That’s fucking brilliant!”

“Thank you it took me like two seconds to come up with.”

“Seriously though, this is. A big deal, huh.”

“Yeah. Like, this, and also I made Leia immortal-”

“Yeah I heard about that, it was awesome.”

“Thanks, and then with Kylo being all bitchy in my ear all the time-”

“Sucks.”

“You have no idea.”

“I have some idea.”

Rey paused. He was smiling wryly at her, finger tapping his temple. She had forgotten, that’s he’d gone through the same thing she did. An angry presence taking a knife to your consciousness, hacking away until it finds what it’s looking for. Whispering gently the whole time, ‘let me in, let me in, it will stop hurting when I see you fully’.

“It hurts,” she whispered.

“Yeah.”

“It felt like it wouldn’t ever stop.”

“I know.”

He did.

They both paused a moment in reflection.

“I’ve been fighting this war since I was a kid, you know. And my parents were fighting it before me. I’ve lost so many people because of it, Rey, and if letting that punk go free. Even if it guts me. We’ve gotta do it. We’ve gotta take every chance we got.”

She nodded.

“I knew him when he was a kid, you know? He wasn’t even, he wasn’t even a bad kid. He was whiny, sure, and it was kinda annoying when he would follow me around everywhere, but fuck, Rey. He was a pretty decent kid. Threw tantrums and shit, but. We couldn’t. Fuck. We couldn’t have known what was going on in his head.”

Rey nodded. It was all she could do.

“And now-Look, Rey, I know that you and Finn need me. I need you guys too. But I cant always be the happy flirt, you know? This fucking war has been my whole life. I got tortured, you got tortured, the man who did it is in a cell on our base! Just, sitting there! And now we’re gonna have to let him out, just so maybe we can end this once and for all. Finn has been acting weird since that fucker got here, and I keep having nightmares and you...You have to deal with him more than we do, but you keep so calm and composed, and I just can’t do that right now. I can’t Rey. I’m not a Jedi, I’m just a pilot.”

He sighed, and thousands of soldiers and fighters and flyers sighed with him, a ghosting blast of stardust and ice.

“You’re not just a pilot, Dameron.”

He looked up at her.

“You’re the best damn pilot in the resistance. You’re the guy who helped save Finn just by smiling at him, by being kind. You’re the pilot who gave BB-8 their own mind and communication!”

“Yeah and now they swear all the time. I blame R2.”

“Yes, but they CAN. Because you let them. You’re important, Poe Dameron. You don’t have to be happy or tough. You just have to be Poe Dameron. Because Poe Dameron is the hero this galaxy should have.”

“Fuck you’re gonna make me cry.”

“Jokes on you, I’m already crying.”

He laughed, blinking his eyes rapidly before wiping them on his sleeve.

“You’re something else, you know that kid.”

“Yeah, I know. Still not sure what that something else is yet though. Smart money’s on Skywalker.”

“Shit yeah, I thought Luke was your dad.”

“Nothing’s been confirmed yet, and honestly he and Lando are making me suspicious that that’s even a possibility.”

“Maybe you’re a Kenobi?”

“That would be cool. I do like making fun of Skywalkers, which is a Kenobi trait.”

“Who knows.”

“Give Finn my love, yeah?”

“Oh, I’ll give it to him alright!” A hint of his normal roguish grin sparked on his face as he winked. Rey laughed and signed off.

Feeling more calm in the knowledge that actually, no one knows what they’re doing ever, and everyone’s fucked up, the young Padawan went outside to shadow-spar.

After all, a battle was coming. She had to be ready.

[bastardtravel]

November 10, 2017. Athens, Greece.

I headed out to the google-recommended Syntagma square to see what it was. Turns out, it’s a little quasipark in front of a municipal building, which is not the Platonian ideal of “sightseeing”, but there was a decently sized hunger strike going on.

A local told me that the strikers are Syrian refugees who have become disconnected from their families traveling across Europe, since there are so few countries willing to accept refugees. They want the Greek government to… find them, somehow. Talk to the other European nations, track down, and reunite the refugee families.

Obviously, the Greek government said “That doesn’t even approach being our responsibility dude and also, how?” so they’ve been hunger striking for a week and a half in central Athens.

After telling me this, ironically, she recommended me some excellent local restaurants.

I hustled off to the remaining ruins in central Athens, Hadrian’s Arch and the Temple of Olympian Zeus:

Nice ruins, if you’re into that sort of thing. I also went to the Acropolis museum, which did not permit pictures. I took one anyway but my phone deleted it. Welp.

(imagine a picture of a sculpture from the Acropolis’ relief of the Gigantomachy, where Athena squadded up with a bunch of Nikes and made an afternoon of whooping rebellious giant ass. the picture was of a giant trying to climb back to his feet, li’l giant ding-a-ling fully visible. caption: “dont look so giant to me”)

Angling on down to the recommended restaurant (which was written entirely in deep Greek and I didn’t have a shot in hell of comprehending, let alone pronouncing), I stumbled onto this gem:

With the lamp and everything! I don’t know about you, but when I think fine dining, my mind goes right to the dude who liked to whack off in the marketplace.

no the other one

I’ve been eating well in Greece, better than in Italy, far better in Madrid, but nothing could’ve prepared me for this.

 I didn’t even know there WERE that many meats, let alone that you could put them all on sticks. It was incredible. That pile of tomatoes is alleged to be a “Greek salad”, which I suppose I can be on board with. Lettuce is a waste of time. What I could not comprehend was how the tzatziki was spicy.

Despite my racial handicap, I like spicy food a lot, but tzatziki is just cucumbers and yogurt. What did you do? How did you do it? Tell me.

sorry fam but these meat sticks are fuckin incredible

I toured, I excursed, I fed, and it was almost happy hour at the hostel. I called it a day and headed back to prepare for the night.

On the roof I struck up a conversation with an Aussie lady who was a little older than me and much more sophisticated than the lads I’d met the previous night. She was in town for a pool tournament that I’m pretty sure she won. She had heard of shoeys, but found them disgusting. Right there with ya, sheila. Hoodies are jumpas and emo was never big in Australia.

The cast and crew from the previous night puttered out onto the roof, along with the four Australian kids.

“If it isn’t the ghost squad!” I shamed them.

“Right, sorry mate,” they said unconvincingly, “We were ganna go for a walkabout but we just passed roight out.”

C’est la vie. Nine of us around the table passed happy hour comparing cultures and travel stories, then made plans to reconvene on the roof terrace at 10.

“All roight lads,” one of the australian kids said, “Let’s go to the store, get some pay-sta for dinner. We’ll meet you back up at here at 10.”

“I’ll hold my breath,” I promised, perhaps a touch peevishly.

The Australian girl did not care for them. The word drongo may have been used. Also, bogan. They’re deeply contextual terms, but they did not seem affectionate.

She was fun, but we lost her before our vaguely defined plans to “find a club”. It was four of us now, me, the Austrian artist, a dude from Wisconsin, and a Canadian bro hellbent on crushing beers wherever they may hide.

The bouncer at the club was the first man I’d met in Europe who genuinely frightened me. He was discernibly Russian, had killed people recently, and there was no way his name wasn’t Ivan. An older guy with a neck like a bull, a shaved head, and bulging, rolling, crazy eyes.

“All right, I have 2 free tickets to get in,” said Wisconsin. “It’s 10 euros admission, so if we all pool up, it’s only 5 each.”

“Drinks are gonna be crazy expensive in there,” Austria said. “They always are in these dance clubs.”

“Yeah, but look at these girls!” Canada said. I did. They looked like almost all the girls I’d seen in Athens, which is to say, slight, dressed in black, purple lipstick, smoking cigarettes. I realized I was the only person wearing grey.

Wisconsin approached Ivan, told him about his free tickets. Ivan considered tearing his head from his shoulders and hurling it to Crete, then said, “Needink girls.”

“What?”

“Men pay unless come with girls,” he said, with finality.

My hustle sense started going crazy.

“All right,” said Canada, “Let’s go across the street, crush some beers, then find some girls to help us get in.”

I surveyed the crowd in line again. It would be possible, for like… two of us. Four rogue foreign dudes trying to skive their way into a trendy club for free, not even speaking the language? I didn’t love our odds.

While beers were crushed, I ordered a currywurst at a skeevy hot dog vendor. They gave me a hot dog sliced into disks with curry ketchup and limp french fries. Any port in a storm. I ate them with fond remembrance of the giant meat-stick platter I had put down six or seven hours before.

The boys asked some of the girls in the traditional American way: direct, civil, transactional. We looked like beggars. I cranked up the charming smile to 75% wattage and made another cluster of Grecian goth girls giggle, recounting how the terrifying man at the door gave us a provisional No Boys Allowed.

“We are waiting for someones, but they may not come,” they said. “If they do not come we will go with you.”

Well, there were two of them. Mathematically, that could’ve panned out, but it was obvious Ivan had no interest in acknowledging Wisconsin’s free tickets, or anything else beyond arterial spray.

“There are other clubs,” I said. “A block down the street. Let’s try that.”

We approached one that, to the undiscerning eye, looked like a ritzy Japanese restaurant. In the line, there were robots.

I suggested maybe one of the girls could get Daft Punk into the club. Meanwhile, Canada was hard at work ingratiating himself to one of the bartenders who was on his smoke break. He made us an incredible, once-in-a-lifetime offer: If we buy a 90 Euro bottle of liquor, we can get in for free.

“You figure, you’d be going in, and then buying like, what, five beers anyway…” Canada rationalized. It was getting too distasteful for me.

“Gentlemen, listen,” I said. “I think we should just go to a bar.”

“But the girls!”

“There are girls literally everywhere,” I said with an expansive hand gesture. “They’re more than half the population. There are beautiful women in bars, in parks, in the grocery store. We don’t need to be going through all this.”

The robot danced and flashed behind me, as if emphasizing my point.

“Yeah, me too,” said Austria.

The bartender returned like a particularly skilled fisherman that sensed his catch was about to slip the hook.

“Just tell them my name,” he said. “They will let you through, say I sent you.”

We thanked him and approached the bouncer, said the magic word.

“Who?” the bouncer said. I laughed, but nobody else thought it was funny.

“The bartender. He was just out here on break, he told us you’d let us in.”

The bouncer considered, then waved us through to the roped off front desk, whereupon a beautiful Asian girl leaned over the counter and said, “10 Euros each, please.”

“I’m out, fellas,” I said. “Hate to poop the party, but I was really only looking for like one drink anyway. I’ll see y’all back at the hostel.”

I crossed the street to talk to the girl we had spoken to previously, in front of the cigarette kiosk, who had originally suggested “Just go find girls! There are girls in every line and there are many clubs.”

“Hey, real quick,” I asked. “You’re working out here every night, right? You know these clubs?”

“Yes.”

“Are we trying to find girls for the opportunity to pay 10 Euros? Like, you find a girl, then you pay 10 Euros anyway?”

“No,” she said, looking puzzled. “You go in free with girls. 10 Euros for boys. But I don’t know this club well, it is new.”

“That’s what I figured. Good night.”

I headed back to the hostel and slept like a rock until the middle aged Asian man in the corner bunk had to scream into his cell phone at 6 AM in the bathroom.

I’m hesitant to talk too much shit here but it’s my blog and if you don’t like it you can GIT OWT so: that whole gendered dance club scene strikes me as kind of desperate. If you’re the kind of dude who’s about to pay $30-$50 for the opportunity to look at, not talk to, and maybe hook up with women, cut out the middleman and go to central Madrid.

Welp, that’s enough for one morning. Time to go exploring.

Love,

The Bastard

Athens: Ruined Temples and Nights November 10, 2017. Athens, Greece. I headed out to the google-recommended Syntagma square to see what it was.

[throughbrookeseyes-blog]

“ENG 101 Playlist” Review

Rating : 6/10

Austin Hoeskstra’s new playlist “ENG 101 Playlist” is a collection of high energy songs crowded with deep emotional meaning.  The playlist consists of mostly punk rock, alternative rock, and some Christian pop tracks.  This playlist is perfect for anyone in the mood for some serious head banging, but is also ready and willing to get emotional. 

Even with all the high energy songs, Austin provides a few calmer paced songs to cut the intensity.  Although I thoroughly enjoyed Austin’s songs individually, the layout of the overall playlist doesn’t have the flow that it desperately needs.

Austin’s playlist starts off with a seemingly simple song “Fireflies” by Owl City, but the playful melody distracts from the deeper meaning of the song.  Adam Young’s lyrics clearly suggests he is wanting reality to be different than it is. “Please take me away from here,” Young sings, desperately wishing he could escape back to the simpler, more innocent time of childhood. Austin’s next song “It’s Time” by Imagine Dragons, isn’t the typical sad mopey breakup song.  Its empowering, bold and utterly freeing.  The song resonates with the motivational message to simply be yourself, be proud of who you are, and never give anyone the power to change you.   

The disorienting playlist continues with “King” by Lauren Aquilina and “Iris” by the Goo Goo Dolls which contrast with the previous upbeat, cheery songs.  Both songs are dramatically different than the rest of the album, and their placement within the album isn’t ideal.  “King” is arguably the fight song for the self-doubting over-thinkers of the world: “Rid of the monsters inside your head, put all your faults to bed.”  Aquilina is pleading with herself to not make life so hard. Stop worrying, stop complaining and just be grateful.  “Iris” was actually a written track for the movie City of Angels.

The movie is essentially about an angel falling so hopelessly in love with a mortal that he is willing to give up absolutely everything just to be with her: “And I’d give up forever to touch you.” Because it was specifically designed for the movie, “Iris” isn’t as mysterious in its overall meaning as the other songs on the playlist, but it’s still a touching song none the less.  

The middle of the playlist jolts you into a heavier rock dominated section with songs form Rise Against and Thousand Foot Krutch, but the star of this entire section is “Satellite” by Rise Against.  This song is a true battle cry of the generation. In the lyrics, there is evidence of a rebellion, “But at night we’re conspiring by candlelight.”  However, this isn’t your typical rebellion, this is an escape plan full of secrets and careful plotting.  Most rebellions end in fighting to the death, but in this song the rebellious few escapes through the back door.  But instead of continuing with this string of rock ballads, Austin throws you for another loop.  I’m starting to get dizzy and it’s not from the head banging.

The ending of the playlist is where there is absolutely no cohesion present on Austin’s part.  The conclusion of the album begins with “Galaxies” by Owl City. This song ties in the vast universe with religion, evoking a feeling of being lost in life but never truly being alone because God is always there, guiding you along your way. Then Austin immediately turns around and plays yet another Owl City song, “Dreams Don’t Turn to Dust.”  This song has a simple beat to match a fairly simple meaning, to never let go of your dreams.  There’s not much more to this song than a repetitive message, to go along with the repetitive artists.

The second to last song, “Little Talks” by Of Monsters and Men is a conversation between two lovers, he has died leaving his lover missing him terribly.  The conversation endures throughout the song, with his ghost rationalizing with her: “Some days I don't know if I am wrong or right. Your mind is playing tricks on you, my dear.”  The playlist abruptly changes moods once again right before the ending with “Desperate” by Fireflight. This song is a call for help, begging for God to see them and hear their cries for salvation.  This last section of Austin’s playlist leaves me more confused than Jackie Chan.

From the beginning to the end, there is no question that this playlist has good quality songs from rock to Christian.  But there is undeniably an issue with the layout and the flow of the entire collection. I feel slightly car sick after listening to this album; it should come with a warning to take Dramamine thirty minutes before hand.  However, this is still some solid songs that are enjoyable but maybe in a different order.